Page 1 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

1

Her reaction was physical, as if she’d been punched in the chest.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her head spinning slightly. ‘What did you just say?’

‘I’m recommending a month off work.’ The doctor handed her a piece of paper.

‘But… there’s nothing wrong with me.’

The doctor rested her blue, serious eyes on Becky until she reluctantly raised her own to meet them. ‘Rebecca,’ she said. ‘You have severe burnout.’

‘What? Oh, come on! This is completely ridiculous! I don’t have burnout. If anything, I’m thriving.’ Becky brushed away some strands of hair that had escaped from her normally perfectly coiffed ponytail and tried to appear relaxed. ‘Yes, I work hard. Yes, sometimes I get a little… stressed. But who doesn’t? I’ll take up yoga or something.’

The doctor resumed her steady gaze. She looked mid-thirties or thereabouts. Just a few years older than Becky. Probably charging Becky’s firm hundreds an hour. ‘Rebecca,’ she said calmly, interlocking her fingers on her desk. ‘You threw a laptop across the office.’

In the cold light of day, in this white painted office with its shiny tiles and bright lights, chucking a HP EliteBook did sound quite extreme. But Doctor Fuller didn’t know what it was like to perform in the kind of fast-paced environment Becky had worked in for the past decade; didn’t understand the stakes, the fact that tensions often ran high.

This wasn’t a time for comparisons though. She needed damage limitation. ‘Well,’ she said carefully, ‘yes, I did. But in my defence, I’d just come off a pretty frustrating call.’

‘It says here, the laptop almost hit Stuart, the intern.’ Doctor Fuller checked her notes, her forehead creasing.

Becky sighed. This again. ‘Yes, but it didn’t hit him, did it? Plus, you know… He’s an intern – he was probably glad of the attention!’ She looked at the doctor for a reciprocal eye roll and smile.

None were forthcoming.

‘I’m not sure it’s a laughing matter.’ The doctor’s brow furrowed with concern. ‘Someone could have been hurt. Not to mention the matter of damaging company property. A lot of firms would have classed this as grounds for instant termination.’

The word ‘termination’ made Becky’s heart lurch. She’d been trying not to think about how close she’d come to losing it all.

‘Look, OK, I was stressed. But the call wasn’t even about work. It was?—’

‘So it was a personal call?’ The doctor made a note in her file.

‘Oh. Well, not personal. An official call. It wasn’t as if I was having a relationship drama or…’

‘Do you often have relationship dramas?’ The doctor’s eyebrow raised slightly.

‘No! I don’t have relationship dramas! I don’t even have a relationship! I haven’t had sex since 2023. I… Not that that’s relevant. I mean, Icouldhave sex. If I wanted to. It’s not that Inever… I do have a sex drive. I’m just… I’ve been busy and…’ she trailed off, sensing she was not onto a winner here.

‘So, as I was saying. A month will…’

‘OK, OK,’ Becky said, sitting up straighter, fixing the doctor with what she hoped was a calm, thoughtful look. The look of a sane person who wasn’t about to lose her cool. Someone who’d had a blip, but was far from having any sort of breakdown. ‘I’ll admit, it wasn’t my finest hour. But you know, all’s well that ends well. Come on, look at me. I’m fine.’

‘Your eyelid appears to be twitching.’

Becky felt the familiar flicker in the corner of her right eye. Why? Why now? She put her finger against her eye. ‘Well, that’s never happened before,’ she lied.

‘And your leg has been trembling for the last five minutes.’

It was a bad habit. Whenever she was under pressure, Becky seemed to consign all her excess energy and adrenaline to her limbs. ‘Oh, that!’ she said, trying to laugh it off.

‘Burnout can be serious, Becky. Living under that level of stress can?—’

‘Well… say I do have a little bit of – let’s call it “excess stress”,’ said Becky making finger quotes. ‘I’ll deal with it. I’ll get some therapy, start doing some stretches. Whatever. Can we move past it?’

The doctor shook her head. ‘That’s all very… admirable. But I’m going to insist on a proper leave of absence, say a month. Just to get your head straight. I’m signing you off.’

She was properly, properly serious. Becky felt her breathing quicken. ‘No, listen. You’ve got this all wrong. I can’t take a month off!’ she said, realising her voice had somehow gone up an octave, and trying desperately to bring it back to normal levels.

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